


At the End

by Mrs_Don_Draper (orphan_account)



Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Goodbyes, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 21:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4453775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Mrs_Don_Draper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr Prompt: Al dies while Sam is leaping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [evilashley359](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=evilashley359).



**Present Day:** 2018  
**Leap Year:** 1957

 

Something is wrong with Al. Sam’s sure of it. Even though his brain will forget his birthday or his sister’s middle name, information about Al seems to stick, which is most likely because Al has been his one constant throughout all his leaping. And though he may defy time and space, seeing Al on recent leaps reminds him of their fragile mortality, especially as they age.

Sam is just finishing dusting the living room (as his chore list dictated) when he hears the familiar whirring and beeping of Al’s arrival. He’s happy and relieved to see his friend, although the more playful nature of their meetings has diminished.

“Hey, Al. It’s good to see you!” 

“Hey, yourself, kid.”

Al gives a smile, but there’s none of his usual verve. No stories of Beth and the girls, no updates on the project, no quips about what Sam looks like this leap. Nothing. It’s as if Al has been replaced by a thinner, exhausted, weaker version of himself.

“You’re using a cane now?”

There’s an edge of worry. Something is wrong. Something is different this time.

“Let’s see what Ziggy has to say about who you’re saving.”

He fumbles in his pocket for the handlink. It takes him a while to retrieve it, and all Sam can do is wait and watch him struggle. He takes note of relaxed muscles on one side of Al’s face, the slowed and limited speech, and the dominant use of his left rather than right hand…Things suddenly click into place.

“Al, you’ve had a stroke, haven’t you?”

“I’m fine, kid. Really.”

Sam is about to protest when Al drops the handlink. It shatters on impact with the floor of the imaging chamber. All Sam can do is stare.

“Al.”

“It’s not the first time it’s happened. You probably don’t remember the others, and I wasn’t going to remind you. They keep putting me back together, but something’s really wrong upstairs.”

Al taps the side of his head as if to illustrate his point.

It comes out in a whisper. He barely dares to breathe. Though his memory is shot, his skill as a doctor has never left him. Just from what he’s seen today and from fragments that float through his brain, he knows Al can’t have long, not if this keeps happening to him. It was a miracle he was standing and speaking at all.

“Al, what’s your prognosis?” 

Al sighs. God, how was he supposed to tell him? How was he supposed to tell this kid, this beautiful, big-hearted kid that their time was going to end? That the only way he was standing and speaking was through the efforts of Ziggy, Donna, and Gooshie combined? He didn’t have a mission planned for Sam today; that job would go to whomever took his place. He wasn’t going to tell the kid that. Sam already looked as though he were about to cry. It would be no use to add to his pain.

“Soon.”

There’s a deep sadness in his voice, and Sam wants to curl into a ball on the floor and have it swallow him whole. Sam wipes his eyes.

“Well, let’s sit down then. Catch me up. A new waitress story maybe?”

Al carefully makes his way to the other side of the imaging chamber and sits beside Sam on the couch.

“Who needs a waitress when you’re a ravishing beauty in navy blue?”

Sam cracks a smile. That was Al. That was the Al he’s always loved.

“You said you liked me in dark blue.”

 _Four minutes, Admiral_ , Ziggy says on his end. 

He would say she sounded despondent if she wasn’t a machine. Al is grateful that Sam can’t hear her. He wishes he didn’t have to hear it either, but already he can feel the medical and electrical work of their colleagues start to fail.

“I do, kid. I do.”

“I’m wearing a navy dress for my Navy man.”

“Jesus, Sam, you’re such a nerd.”

Sam laughs, but the tears quickly fall. The image alterations he’d be using to disguise himself are wearing off. 

“Oh, Sam. Please don’t—”

_Two minutes and twenty-seven seconds, Admiral._

If all else fails, he hopes Ziggy will keep his speech intelligible. Sam needs to hear this. 

“Sam, whatever happens now, you’re going to be fine. We’re not leaving you. We’re always going to be here for you. You’re not alone, kid.”

Sam reaches up to touch him but stops halfway. He can’t even hold him in his final moments here.

“I’m never alone when I’m with you,” Sam says. “I’m never crazy or weird or annoying or lost when you’re with me. You—you listened and gave me a chance when no one else would.”

Sam swallows hard, shaking, trying to think of what to say and desperately trying to commit Al’s face to memory.

_Admiral, I’ve been instructed to tell you to say your goodbyes to Dr. Beckett._

“Ziggy says I gotta go,” Al replies, voice thick.

“I love you, Al.”

“You too, kid.”

As his mind fades, so does his image in front of Sam. With no active brainwaves to mesh with, Al is visible only to those at the project.

For the first time in his life, Sam is truly left alone.

When his host’s husband comes in and finds him crying on the sofa in her pearls, he immediately rushes over to hold her close. Sam appreciates the soothing sounds and the motion of being rocked, despite this man having no clue what had transpired. This was obviously not the man to be saved. He was a good man.

“Honey, what’s the matter?”

He hands his wife a handkerchief.

“I don’t even know my name,” Sam answers honestly.

The man holds him close again, and Sam wonders how long it will be before he doesn’t remember Al at all.


End file.
